by David Kernot
"Don't hit me. She's going."
Andrew stared at the woman, her face softer. "Who are you then?"
"I'm Doris. From Avebury village."
"Tell me how to use the device."
Doris rubbed her head. "I'm not sure… Morgan is fading... point the talisman to the sword… where her body would be… press the buttons."
Andrew leaned Excalibur against the rock pile and gripped the object. "Here goes." He touched the raised symbols, felt it vibrate. Light pulsed from it.
It shifted, and it felt as if it moved in and out of time, as if it crossed different dimensions. It flashed, and he struggled to focus.
Giselle appeared, paces from him.
His heart skipped several beats. Her beauty radiated more than he remembered.
She fell.
Andrew dropped the Stasis Cube, lunged forward, and caught her in his arms.
She smiled. "Arthur Pendragon, I knew you would find me."
"Look!" Doris pointed to the Stasis Cube.
It rose into the air, spun slowly at first, but gathered speed. The surrounding air rippled in a complex ebb and flow. Colourful lights pulsed and swirled above it. The object changed shape. It morphed between a cube and an inverted triangle with no corners, and it was if it bent the fabric of space around it. Light twisted and the hummed. Ancient hieroglyphs appeared at its base.
The wind increased, and Andrew shivered from excitement. With Giselle safely behind him, he examined the symbols, stepped forward to examine the familiar patterns.
"Don't touch it, my Lord," warned Giselle.
Andrew paused, his hand inches from the Stasis Cube. He turned to Giselle.
Her eyes brimmed with concern. "If you touch it, they might catch you inside. I wasn't the only one trapped in it."
It wasn't surprising there were others. He leaned into the soothing hypnotic ebb of light-currents. "I know this text. It's ancient Sumerian."
The Stasis Cube grew. It hummed. Vibrations filled his head. He recognized the symbols of the Moon God, Sin, and a Shoggoth in the device. Noise and lights filled his mind.
Andrew crouched; he raised his hands to his ears and closed his eyes in pain.
"No!" Giselle pulled him back, and he fell to the ground.
She screamed.
Andrew smelled rotten flesh. Behind him, a growl, deep and guttural, shook him.
As sight returned, a shiver ran along Andrew's spine.
A man-sized creature stood in front of him, but it lacked definition. Stunted arms gestured. A head with no eyes, or visible mouth growled. Instead of hair, a myriad of tentacles writhed, changed their length and shape. Each one held an eye. It formed and unformed in random fashion. An eye vanished here and there, and a mouth and sharp teeth replaced it.
The monster cried out. "Tekeli-li. Tekeli-li."
Andrew had never faced a Shoggoth, but he grabbed Excalibur and shielded Giselle. From his research into the Old Ones, he knew the sword would be useless and wished for a machine gun, or an RPG. Either would be a better choice.
The lights of the Stasis Cube flashed, and he diverted his eyes.
The Shoggoth stepped forward and snarled. "Tekeli-li. Tekeli-li."
Doris stepped toward the Stasis Cube, drawn by its hypnotic light.
"Old One's spawn, you don't belong here," shouted Andrew.
The Shoggoth lunged at Doris and Andrew raised Excalibur. A war cry, long buried, sprang from deep within him.
The Shoggoth faced Andrew, its eyes morphed into mouths. It snapped at him, sucked and bit a chunk of flesh from Andrew's face.
Andrew thrust the sword forward. Energy flowed from Excalibur, and its powerful magic sliced effortlessly through the monster and lodged itself in the creature's torso.
Eldritch screeches erupted from the Shoggoth's mouths.
Andrew let go of the sword.
Doris stepped closer to the Stasis Cube.
"Don't," he said.
Light swirled around it. It pulsed and expanded. Once again, the fabric of space seemed to ripple. It engulfed the area, and a pulse of light burst from it. Andrew stepped away.
The wind howled, and a blast threw Andrew to the ground. He shut his eyes until it stilled. When he opened them again, he stood and felt alone. The Shoggoth, Doris, Morgan le Fay, and the Stasis Cube had vanished.
Andrew turned, searched for Giselle, and cried out her name in dismay. He fell to his knees, and when he wandered the recesses of his mind, to where he had first sensed her, had almost felt her cherished touch, she had gone.
It was as if a part of him cleaved away. He felt empty, lost once again. Until that point he had believed that his PTSD hadn't been real. He picked up Excalibur. The sword felt solid in his hands. Perhaps there had been some truth to the dreams.
He strode along the narrow barrow to the entrance to where the giant Sarasin stones stood. A woman stepped out from between the narrow gap between the mound and the giant rocks. Dressed in ancient embroidered clothing, he recognized her in an instant. "Giselle." He stood before, her. "It's Andrew… your Arthur…" The words tumbled out without restraint.
"Arthur… Andrew…" She slid into his open arms and hugged him. "You feel so real at last. More than a dream."
He stood, and their embrace seemed to last an eternity. The search for Giselle was over.
She let go of him and stepped back. "There are other's like me in the cube, they need rescuing," she said and smiled.
He felt more alive at that moment than he could ever remember, and the love in her eyes was real enough for him. He reached out and caressed her beautiful face. "I'll get them out too," he promised.
She smiled back at him and his whole being filled with her love, their love, ancient, and yet it had stood the test of time.
For Andrew it was more than enough while he devised a plan to rescue the lost people in the cube.
◆◆◆
Chapter VII
Glastonbury, England
From his hotel room, Andrew opened a secure compartment tucked inside of his travel bag. He pulled out an encrypted NSA-issued cell phone. His shoulder and knee ached from the attack and he rubbed his knee, saddened that Giselle, his long-lost love, was in another location and being processed by the authorities. He was alone again after having only spent hours with her. Being away from her after all this time was almost more painful than his injuries, but the British government had promised to fly her over to his home in Ottawa. They promised they would deal with the Canadian bureaucratic tape to ensure that after the mission she was home.
Giselle had said there were people trapped in the ancient device, lots of them. They didn't deserve to be. He dialled a number and waited.
"This is Barn Owl."
"Roger, Barn Owl. I need a pred deployed as soon as possible." The Predator, the latest US Unmanned Arial Vehicles, or drones, would be very effective at conducting high altitude surveillance.
"Authorization code."
"IRIDIUM Unit 89. Personnel ID 816098923. Retina scan starting…" He placed his face close to the top of the high-tech cell phone and waited while a light shone in his eye.
He heard the woman at the other end of the line draw a sharp breath. "Patching your request through immediately, sir."
"Thank you. I'll be at Cheltenham in…" he paused and checked his watch, "… in about four hours." It would have taken him less time if he went directly there, but he wasn't able.
"Sir, they've asked me for target directives," said the woman on the phone.
"The target?" He searched the ORBAT records on his PC, of where the ancient Mesopotamian temple was located and keyed in the BE Number codes to highlight the search area longitude and latitude and military designators.
"We'll get the USS Nimitz to scramble one, sir. They should be on station in an hour. Do you require any more classified assets deployed, sir?"
He took a moment to consider the speed and effect of other sensors—she meant a U2—and dismissed the idea.
All he needed for now was the NSA UAV. He shook his head. "No, I'll make some other calls."
"Thank you sir, Barn out."
Andrew rang another number and waited for the man to pick up.
"Philby—"
Before the man could speak any further, Andrew jumped in.
"Philby, its Andrew Stone."
"Andrew… good to hear from you. Problems?"
He could almost hear the man frowning. "I'm over here for the CIED conference at MOD HQ, but I need a favour."
"Sure. You booked into the Hilton at Trafalgar Square? If so, I'll see you for the happy hour with the Hilton girls." Philby laughed.
"Peter, I'm in a bit of strife."
"Oh, sorry old man, I had no idea. Ask away."
"I need air transportation to Ur, south of Bagdad…." Andrew remembered it being known as Mesopotamia, home of the Temple of Sin.
"You sound in pain. Are you all right?"
Andrew laughed, sure it sounded a little manic. "I'll survive." He wasn't sure how to explain someone had stabbed him with diving rods.
"Wait out."
There was a lengthy pause. "I see where you are. Can you make it to the western end of the Tor?"
"Sure," said Andrew, more convinced of MI5's geo-locating facility. Right now he didn't really care, and he was a little more than pleased that it was a 5-minute walk from his hotel room.
"I've dispatched a team via insertion Helo. What else can I do?"
"Thanks Peter. I need to find someone, an Australian sergeant, Dingo… Sergeant Donaldson. He was stationed out at Bagdad with me when the IED went off." Andrew unveiled as much as he dared over the secure comms link using designated keywords to lessen the classification and laid out his plan.
"Send me some details via the encrypted data link and I'll inform the authorities at your destination."
"Will do, " said Andrew. He ended his conversation and made his way to the ancient Tor of Glastonbury. Philby would be right on it.
◆◆◆
The hum of the four engines of the converted Ilyushin Il-76 relaxed Andrew. The covert strategic airlift aircraft took off from a small, disused military runway in the south of England. Andrew tightened the nylon straps from the cargo hold of the Ilyushin Il-76 aircraft, happy to be doing something other than briefing people. At least here every minute took him closer to finding the cube and returning home to Giselle. This time he knew what to expect. When the mission was over, they'd fly him straight to Canada. He glanced at the military container strapped in as cargo and smiled. No Shoggoth, or an ancient witch, would get between him and getting home to Giselle again. He grinned as he remembered the sign on the door when he picked up his package from the guys at Fort Halstead: There is no problem too big that can't be fixed with explosives. He nodded: they had the right idea, and the experimental military grade RDX explosives would go a long way to him making his point.
At the first stop, the plane touched down at Bagdad, and Andrew clambered from the cargo hold. Bright lights illuminated the runway apron and bathed him in an orange colour. He checked his watch and realized it was barely three in the morning. They should be in Ur just on dawn. It had been easy for Philby to make a few calls. Andrew connected with the IRIDIUM team in the US and planned the trip. This was the last stop before they arrived at the ancient Temple of Sin.
An Australian soldier Andrew recognized stood at the aircraft's cargo ramp. "G'day, sir. Good to see you still in one piece." The man laughed. "I had to wonder last time we met." The Australian sergeant threw him a proud and respectful salute before.
Andrew stepped forward and offered to shake Sergeant Donaldson's hand. "Dingo! Great to see you!" It was good to see the sergeant again. Andrew grinned and shook the soldier's hand as if were the only stable thing in his life.
"Sir, you've got some sway," said the Australian. "I ain't never seen things happen so fast as I did when they turned up to scoot me off here."
Andrew could only imagine. "I know some people," he said.
Dingo laughed. "Ha! People. I think the two-star general here had a heart attack when he got a call from the director of the NSA and some English Lord in Whitehall within the same hour. You never told me you had connections in high places, sir."
Andrew smiled. Philby's boss in MI5 had been very supportive.
"So where are we going? What are we going to do?"
"We will rescue some people trapped in an ancient device," said Andrew.
"Sounds like my kind of fun. I've brought a friend if that's ok?"
Andrew paused. "A friend?"
"He doesn't talk much." Dingo laughed. "Meet Joey, he's under test."
Andrew laughed at the track-based bomb robot that chugged toward them.
"You understand I'm here to run some Counter IED tests, to see how the bomb robot performs?"
"Understood." Andrew nodded, not bothered what reasons they gave as long as he had the man's help. He stared at the bomb robot and noticed it was different to the ones he'd seen. He pointed to the end of the water cannon. "What's it got at the end?"
Dingo chuckled. "I had some of your 'colleagues' visit me. They wanted you to have some heavier firepower."
Andrew frowned. "My friends?"
"You know… the ones that got me that briefing about ancient monsters and stuff. Bit far-fetched if you ask me."
Andrew smiled. If it were only far-fetched. By colleagues Dingo had referred to the NSA's technical division who'd also paid him a visit. "What did they do to the water cannon?" asked Andrew as he examined a large sealed attachment on the side.
Dingo chuckled, it was rich and seemed to reverberate from somewhere down by his feet. "You just wait and see." He cocked his head. "I'll surprise you."
Andrew raised his eyebrows. "Okay then... I'm sure you will."
"Ready to go?"
"Almost." Dingo turned around and pulled a weapon from a box on the ground near him. He pulled out a rifle and tossed it to Andrew. Andrew caught it clumsily in one hand.
"What's this for?" not recognizing the oddly manufactured rifle.
"A soviet Kalashnikov semi-automatic rifle," said Dingo. "If we fly into the holy lands in a soviet gun ship, then a Kalashnikov would seem a perfect choice of firepower." He laughed. "I was told I'd never left Bagdad on this tour. We were never here. No Canadians. No Australian. And no allied weapons." He held up his Kalashnikov. "This soviet crap will be fine."
"And you brought a friend," said Andrew, referring to the modified bomb robot.
"I suspect you did too."
Andrew nodded, but the RDX, a high-grade military explosive, in a firing pistol by his belt would be his little secret.
◆◆◆
Chapter VIII
Dhi Qar Province, Iraq
Andrew Stone braced himself as the heavily armed Ilyushin Il-76 aircraft fell from the desert sky for a tactical landing. It banked hard, and even in the pre-dawn light, he could see the aircraft's left wingtip: it looked so close to the ground he wondered when the pilot would straighten up. He tightened the nylon straps of his seatbelt, checked his body armour and helmet strap. He couldn't help but twist and line up the dusty horizon. The cabin alarm chimed, and he braced himself. The aircraft twisted, straightened in a giddy twist and then he felt the wheels make contact, heard the engines' whine as the aircraft bounced down a narrow strip of road, barely missing low hills and trees either side.
They were here because of him. Because of what he had sensed in the ancient cube before it vanished. If anything happened here, it would be on his head. He was responsible.
The aircraft whined to a stop, and one of the aircrew stepped into the rear cargo hold. "All well?" asked one of the crew.
He looked around at the group of armed soldiers, and seeing them nod, he gave the thumbs up. "Dingo, you and Mav cover the aircraft perimeter. Go."
The rear cargo hatch levelled, and he clambered out with his crew of trained soldiers. A wave of warm air from the nearby sand dunes outside wel
comed him like an old friend.
He shuddered. Last time he was in Iraq, a routine patrol that had taken him close to the ancient city of Ur: one of the oldest cities of ancient Mesopotamia, and home of Nanna, the 'illuminator', the Sumerian moon god. That was before the IED exploded, and the complex attack had killed too many of the team. But now, here he was.
He stared up at the ancient temple and strode directly to the steps. "Sergeant Donaldson…"
"Sir!"
"Wait here, but prepare the men for the worst."
"Understood."
Reports from the drone had given no indications of trouble, but trouble always found him, and he'd just parked a military airplane on one of their major roads. Something would happen. Just the act of being here could set off a string of events.
Behind him, the sound of the men cocking their weapons, and moving into a deeper protective cover, did nothing to make him feel safer. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow. He could feel trouble was ahead of him, up in the Temple of Sin, home of Nanna, the 'illuminator' and Sumerian moon god. Taking someone would only inflame the situation.
He climbed the sandstone steps, and the cool wind whipped around him. Nothing happened as he climbed. Morning prayer rang out from a nearby temple, but other than that, the wind muffled any other sounds. At the top of the top, footprints in the fine grains of golden sand led to a door. He pulled on it, and it opened freely. He stepped inside of the cool, dimly lit temple and shivered as fear stabbed at him. He cursed: there was death in the air.
A man standing near the edge of an altar faced him. The man, freshly shaven, wore a simple white robe. He wore a lumpy waistcoat jacket and in the cool temple, sweat ran down his forehead. Andrew pulled the Westinghouse Colt 45 from his belt. He pointed it at the man and clicked the safety off. The sound echoed around the temple, and the man smiled.
"Where is it?" said Andrew, referring to the device that Giselle said had many more ancient people still trapped in.
The man grinned. "It? The infidel wants something ancient, perhaps?"
